Sacrifices made
by MariaW93
Summary: Dean and Sam Winchester lives in district 8. The story begins before the 48th hunger game. Dean does anything he can to keep Sam alive and thriving in the poorest district after their fathers death. This is the story of Deans life, his love for his brother and the lives he inspires. This is not a happy story. This story desperatly needs a Beta :) message me if interested.


Chapter 1

"Dad, don't go. Please dad. Don't leave us." Dean beggs his father again. The father that is currently standing in the doorway, dressed in a peacekeaper outfit he has stolen from work. "The only upside to living in district 8" he had told his son when he was caught sneaking home piece after piece of the uniform, "we have acces to disguises when we need them." He had never told Dean what the uniform was for. Untill now.

"Dean, I have to! I need to find district 13 and help them start a new rebellion. I need to avenge your mothers death." John looks at Dean with pleading eyes, as if begging Dean to understand.

Dean doesn't understand, district 13 was wiped from the face of the earth by nuclear bombs almost fifty years ago. There is no more district 13. They've had this argument before though. His dad conspires, and Dean tries to talk him out of it. He doesn't think that will work this time, so he tries a different approach.

"Mom died in a fire at the factory dad, it was an accident. There is nothing to take revenge for! And what about S.."

He's stopped from finishing the sentence by a shocking pain to his nose. He hadn't seen the punch comming. His father looks furious, eyes wide and nostrils flaring.

"Don't say that Dean. Don't ever say that!" it looks like he wants to shout, but he keeps it down to an enraged wisper.

They've become good at having their arguments in hushed tones so the neighbours won't hear them. "Your mom would never have died at the factory if it wasn't for the Capitol. She wouldn't even have been in that place if it wasn't for them. So don't ever think that they aren't to blame."

His dad is staring at him, as if expecting realisation to hit and for Dean to apologise. Dean doesn't apologise though. He can feel blood running from his nose and down his chin to the only shirt he has left. He wants to yell at his father. Scream at him for always doing this, for making him worry. Making him take care of Sam, his little brother. Making him grow up too soon.

He wants to cry, because his face is starting to throb, and he wants someone to comfort him. The one that should be comforting him, however, is the one that inflicted the pain. Dean chooses to ignore it. He ignores the pain in his face (it's not like being hit is a new thing) and he ignores his own fear and sadness.

"What about Sam?" he tries instead. His last hope, because if his dad won't stay for Sam he won't stay for anything. For a short moment it actually looks like it's working.

His dad looks over to the bed where the eleven year old is sleeping, growing too long for the blanket that coveres him. John smiles softly at his son, but then he turns away and straightens.

"You're sixteen now Dean. You're old enough to take care of your brother." he hesitates, and Dean can actually see regret in his eyes. "I think we both know you've been more of a father to him than I have."

Dean wants to argue, wants desperatly to deny the statement and tell his father that "of course not, you've been a wonderfull father to him", it wouldn't be the truth though. The truth is that John hasn't been much of a father to him or Sam after their mother died almost eleven years ago. He works a lot, he is off planning and conspiering a lot, and when he returns he is often angry and frustrated. On those nights Dean only has enough time to send Sam away, before his dad uses him as a punching bag to release the frustration.

"It doesn't have to be like that though, we can be a real family. Just don't go." he says instead, pleading with his dad one last time.

"The Capitol stole any chance we had at being a normal family. I'm sorry Dean, I have to go. Take care of Sammy, and tell him I said bye." John takes one more look at his sons bloodied face, closes his eyes, turns, and walks out the door.

Dean understands that he has lost, their father has left and he couldn't stop him. He's failed Sammy again. A tear breaks free and slips down his face. He angrily wipes it away, and his hand comes back bloody. Right, he has to clean that up before Sammy wakes up.

Dean is pretty sure Sam knows their father beats him, he's a smart kid. He always makes sure to clean up though. Sam might know whats going on, but Dean doesn't want him to actually have to face it.

He leaves the room he shares with, now, only Sam, and enters the kitchen they share with three other families. When this building was made, each appartment had apperantly been meant for only one family. Now one family resides in a private room, and the kitchen and washroom is shared.

"Your dad leave to then?" a voice interrupts the silence and Deans thoughts and he nearly has a heart attack.

He whippes around and sees that Jo, daugher of the new family that mooved in a week ago after the previous one had been kicked out, is standing by the kitchen table. She has long blond hair, and a slim slightly tanned face. Dean can see traces of tears on her cheecks.

He just nodds.

As it turnes out, Dean is wrong. The previous night Jo had helped him clean up, and he had gotten a few hours sleep before he had to wake Sammy, explain to him where their dad was and take him to school.

He is walking from the school on his way to work in the factory when he sees his dad. John is standing on the stage normally used only for the reaping. Next to him lies Jos dad, in a pool of his own blood. The major is reading the charges against him; theft, attempted escape, treason. Before Dean has a chance to process what is happening one of the peacekeepers pulls out his gun and shoots his father in the face.

Dean has seen people die before. He has seen people wither away because of too little food and too much work. He has seen people frozen on the streets because they couldn't get warm. He has even seen the horrible, bloody murders in the games. It couldn't have prepeared him for this though. For seeing his own fathers brains splattered all over the stage and one of the peacekeepers.

He doesn't realise he's running untill he hits something hard and commes to an abrupt stop. The something hard turns out to be Jo. There are a million things they could say, but they both know nothing would help them feel any better.

Instead Dean holds out his hand. "Lets just go to work. We're going to need all the pay we can get, so we can't afford to loose our jobs."

*ONE YEAR LATER*

Dean is hungry. He's hungry to the point where he isn't even hungry anymore, he is just nautious and tired. He's been doing what he can for Sam since their father passed away. He went to the peacekeepers the day after to sign up for tesserae for himself and Sam. Meaning his name was added an additional 2 times to the reaping. It hadn't been enough though.

The room he and Sam shares really isn't meant for only one income. Sam works after school, so it's more like one and a half. It still isn't enough. The rooms all over town are meant for a family of at least four people. They had just managed when their dad was there, but now the money just doesn't cover it all.

Dean has refused Sam to take out tesserae, and he doesn't tell him how bad the situation is. For the past month Dean has been giving Sam most of the grain he should be eating. All the money they earn goes into paying for their room. He always makes sure Sam has enough to eat, but today marks two weeks of no food for Dean.

He knows he has to eat soon. Knows because he can't walk to work anymore without having to sit down several times so he won't faint. Knows from seeing other people starve to death that he isn't far behind.

He is sitting down for the fifth time on his way home from work when the peacekeeper approaches him. Dean doesn't even see him at first, too busy trying to make the dirty road in front of him stop spinning. When he does see the peacekeeper he's scared. He can't get in trouble, not now.

"I'm sorry, just taking a breather. I'll be on my way." He says and tries to stand up. He is almost upright when he falls, but the peacekeeper catches him before he hits the ground. Imagine that, being seventeen and dying of starvation he thinks, not knowing if he should laugh or cry.

"Why don't you come inside with me?" the peacekeeper offers. "I'll give you some food."

Dean almost snorts, it certanly looks like the peacekeeper has enough of it. Fat people are hard to come by in district 8, but if you do find one it's most likely a peacekeeper. The man stares down at him with dull eyes. Waiting for a reply.

"I haven't got any money" Dean tells him, internally beating himself for saying this before the food, not after. He can't get in trouble with the law though, he needs to be there for Sam. One of the reasons he hasn't tried stealing food.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll find another way to pay me back" the peacekeeper says, smiling. "All you have to do is lie there and look pretty."

Dean suddenly understand what the peacekeeper wants in return for the food. He knows he should feel disgusted, knows he should walk away and never return. He knows this, but all he feels is relief. Relief and stupid that he hasn't thought of this before.

He has been working all the hours he can fixing mashines at the factory, he isn't allowed to work more than he does. That doesn't mean he can't sell himself. Technically it's illegal, but the only ones interested in buying are the peacekeepers, and there are so many of them buying that the ones not interested doesn't bother arresting anyone for it. He won't get in trouble, Sammy won't get in trouble. They will keep their room and Dean won't die of starvation.

"Yes" he says "ok, show the way."

The peacekeeper half drags half carries Dean to his appartment. Most peacekeepers that have a family are given a house, but seeing as this one lives in an appartment he is most likely single. Not that it would make much of a difference either way.

When they walk through the door of the appartment Dean almost faints again. It's huge. Just from the door he can see a living room and three doors that most likelly lead to a kitchen, bathroom and a bedroom. Just the living room is bigger than the whole quarter he shares with Sam and three other families. One of the walls in the livingroom is covered in books. Sam would absolutely love to get his hands one one of them.

It's not that books are very rare in district 8, it's just that no one can really afford to own one. And the few families that did have used them to light the fireplace or tried to sell them off.

"So" the peacekeeper says. "You give me a blowjob I'll let you have a meal."

Dean has to fight hard not to throw up, not that it would have been anything but acid. The peacekeeper is licking his lips suggestivly and looking at Deans mouth. Dean has to think fast. He doesn't know what the usual prices for prostituting oneself is, and he's scared to ask too much. He looks over at the books again, Sam's birthday is comming up and he would love a book. The peacekeeper doesn't look like the guy who reads anyways, so he probably wouldn't take much for it.

"Two good meals and two books and I'll even let you fuck me" he says, truly disgusted at himself for going through with this.

The peacekeeper nodds eagerly, witch again makes Dean think he's charging too little. He's too hungry to worry about that though.

"You probably want to feed me first" he says instead, "unless fucking me unconcious does it for you."

He half hopes it will. Instead the peacekeeper just nods again.

"Nah, I'd like you awake and screaming actually. Sit down over there" he says, pointing to a set of chairs at a table that Dean hadn't noticed before.

Dean shudders and chooses to ignore the screaming comment, instead heading over to the table. The peacekeeper leaves through one of the doors and returns right after Dean's sat down, arms overloaded with food.

"This is the two good meals you're getting. Eat what you want now, pick any two books and then come find me. I'll be in the bedroom. And don't take too long, I don't like to be kept waiting." The peacekeeper gives him a stern look before leaving through a different door.

Dean looks at the food and is shocked. He'd asked for two good meals, and he had gotten what he and Sam could love of for at least four days. This is two good meals in the peacekeepers opinion? Or does he just see how starved Dean really is? He doesn't strike Dean as a man who feels pity.

The table is covered in bread, cheeses, ham, chicken, apples, two oranges, a jar of jam, potatoes, a jug of milk, butter and what Dean suspects is cake of some sort. The only thing on the table that he has actually tasted before is bread, milk and cheese. And this looks completelly different. He carefully pickes up one of the many bread rolls and breaks it open.

The smell is overwhelming. It's fresh, warm and extremely tempting. Dean wants to shove the whole thing intoo his mouth at once. Wants to smell the oranges and the apples. Wants to try a little bit of everything. He rememberes the Peacekeepers warning though, and he knows he will get sick if he eats too much. He carefully breaks off a bite and puts it in his mouth, and it is the most wonderfull thing he's ever tasted.

It takes all of Deans willpower not to shove his face with it. Instead he forces himself to take slow bites while he packs the remaining food in the bag he uses to carry tools at work.

When the food is packed he brings the last part of his roll over to the bookshelf, contemplating what books to give Sam. He wants to give him something usefull. Sam still has four months left of school before he starts to work full time. Untill school finishes the kids are all factory workers, witch is the only thing they learn in school. When they finish at the end of august there is a test. A test that determines if you should continue as a factory worker or get one year in training to become weaver, designer, dress maker, teacher, tailor or something different.

Dean had been lucky, and had been chosen for the "something different". He'd spent one year learning how to fix the mashines used in the factories all over.

Sam had mentioned wanting to be a teacher or a designer, but to be a teacher you had to scoore high on all the categories in the test. Also, Dean doesn't think Sammy would be happy teaching kids how to work in the factories all day long, and then send them off to that fate for the rest of their lives.

One of the books catches his eye The Basics of Designing - Principles, Technices and Practice, after leafing through it, Dean puts it in his bag. He then continues searching for a second book. One part of his brain rememberes the peacekeepers warning and beggs him to hurry up, while the other beggs him to take a really long time, to drag it out as long as possible.

He doesn't have to think about it much before another book catches his eye though; the Art of Fashion - Drawing, Sowing and Inspiration. It looks perfect. Dean doesn't know much about fashion or designing, but these two books seem to cover what he knows as the basics.

He slowly puts the second book in his now stuffed bag, and places the bag by the door. He wants everything to be ready to go when he has made his payment.

He catches himself standing unmooving next to his bag for a minute. He doesn't want to think about what will happen once he gets intoo the peacekeepers bedroom. But he knows he has to go in there any second, and he knows he should have some rules for himself. He needs at least one rule, if only to make him feel like he has some sort of control. He decides on no kissing. He will let this man fuck him. He will later suck on other mens dick and pretend to enjoy it, if that's what they're intoo. But he will not let anyone kiss him.

Dean squares his sholders and head for the door he saw the peacekeeper enter earlier. And if he has to stop shortly before entering to wipe off a few tears no one will ever know.


End file.
